


Ride 'Em, Cowboy

by subbyomegahole



Series: SPN Fic Ideas [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cowboy Kink, Dress Up, Kinky, M/M, i'm supposed to be taking my spanish test, ish, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subbyomegahole/pseuds/subbyomegahole
Summary: Sammy's always been hung like a horse and Dean wants to take it to another level
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: SPN Fic Ideas [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933615
Comments: 4
Kudos: 91





	Ride 'Em, Cowboy

(inspiration for Dean's outfit can be found [here.](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/589408669962378400/) )

It’s not the first time they’ve played in the bedroom. The fed suits had led to some pretty memorable nights in Dean’s book. That’s why he doesn’t understand why Sam won’t just  _ let it happen. _

“Sammy,  _ come on. _ It could be really good.”

“Dean, just because you’re obsessed with the Wild West, doesn’t mean we have to bring it to bed.”

Dean scowls. “ ‘m not obsessed.”

Sam smirks.

“Sam, Sam,  _ Sammy _ ,” he pleads, brushing his hands up and down Sam’s arms. “I  _ promise _ I can make it worth your while.” They’re both in just boxers, skin flushed from an easy morning make out session.

Sam huffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t move away from Dean’s roaming hands, so he continues. He tilts his head up to nose at Sam’s neck, his breath leaving a hot trail. Sam’s hands move to Dean’s waist.

“And if you really don’t like it,” he purrs, “blow jobs, whenever you want……for a week.”

Sam’s hands tighten and who can really blame him when his voice is slightly breathy as he forces out a quiet “Fine”.

Dean springs into the bathroom, duffel bag in hand, leaving Sam to catch his breath. He sighs to himself as he sits on the bed. 

When Dean comes out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, it’s all Sam can do not to take his brother where he stands. Dean’s wearing a cowboy hat,  _ duh _ , and a light brown leather jacket, no shirt. But what really gets Sam is the chaps. They’re the same color as the jacket, if not a little darker.  _ Assless chaps, _ he brain supplies, _ he’s wearing assless chaps. _

Dean’s cock hangs hot and heavy between his legs, no boxers in sight. He knows he looks good.

And then he turns around.

The stark contrast between the leather and Dean’s pale ass has Sam gasping.

Dean smirks at the sound and looks over his shoulder. “Like what ya see, Sammy,” a Southern twang deepening his voice.

“Y-yeah.” Sam clears his throat.

Dean struts to the bed straddling Sam. “My last ride bailed on me in the night. Took off, poor spooked thing.” He leans in real close, nipping at Sam’s ear. “You think you can handle it better?”

The sound of a challenge posed to his manhood in a voice of pure sin snaps Sam out of his stupor.

  
  


“I think the better question is, do you think you can last?” he growls. His grab at Dean’s ass and he pulls. He’s surprised to find Dean’s hole slick and open. Sam groans at the thought of Dean bent over the sink pushing one, two, three fingers in himself, prepping for a fuck.

Dean whines when Sam pulls his hands away, rocking into the poorly-concealed hard-on Sam’s got going. The slight squeaks of leather catching on sweat slick bodies fills the room. Sam captures his mouth with his own, Dean’s lips plush and pliant beneath Sam’s, his tongue sliding in and out, brushing the ridges of teeth.

When Dean finally pulls away, it’s only to yank Sam’s boxers off before he’s pushing himself back on Sam’s lap, further up bed now. He sinks slowly onto Sam’s cock, grunting with the sweet heavy sensation of being filled. Dean can’t deny that easy access was on his mind when he bought the chaps. Sam arches into him, pushing the last few inches.

“God, Dean!”

_ Either name is fine, _ he wants to reply, but his mind is gone. They set up a rhythm, Dean rising and bearing down, his muscles burning, Sam pushing up, meeting him thrust for thrust.

_ Right there, _ moaning with abandon, as Sam nails his prostate with uncanny precision. His eyes roll back into his head and he comes all over Sam and himself. He feels Sam freeze beneath him, his own release a continuous stream. 

Dean collapses on top of Sam, pulling off and sighing contentedly.

“It was good, right?” his words slurred in post orgasmic haziness.

Sam chuckles, vibrations in his chest rumbling through Dean, “Yeah, Dean, it was good.”

Dean smiles. “.....yee-haw.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can honestly say inspiration slapped me in the face, possessed my body, and wrote this. I can also honestly say, I am not sorry. Comment and kudos are love. Thx, babes.


End file.
